Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ghana and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ultra Naté to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
The Wake,
Swell Maps,
The Seeds,
Angry Samoans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Al Stewart,
the Normal,
Public Enemy,
Silicon Teens,
Tomorrow,
The Motions,
Godley & Creme,
UT,
Soul II Soul,
Roy Ayers,
The Pop Group,
Glambeats Corp.,
Adolescents,
Scan 7,
The Music Machine,
The New Christs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vainqueur,
The Mummies,
Barclay James Harvest,
Echospace,
Swans,
Blossom Toes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Simply Red,
Fad Gadget,
Tears for Fears,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Happenings,
The Monks,
Sex Pistols,
Wings,
Cameo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lucky Dragons,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fatback Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Janne Schatter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Y Pants,
Stiv Bators,
Robert Görl,
The Star Department,
Sister Nancy,
Zapp,
Dennis Brown,
Slave,
The Durutti Column,
The Fire Engines,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tres Demented,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Doors,
Barbara Tucker,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Moon,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.